


Supernaturalnanny

by fr1day



Category: Supernanny (TV), Supernanny - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: (hopefully), AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Cereal, Cereal bars, Crack Treated Seriously, I’m sorry I love this but I’m either never gonna finish this or just rewrite it completely, Jack eats cereal bars, Made-up powers, Megan Cooke was possessed by a demon, Parent-Child Relationship, Parody, Problem Child Jack Kline, Shared Universe, UA, Universe Altercation, another WIP I'll hopefully finish..........., everything is normal, fuck you that's why, seriously i just gave Jack a bunch of powers, why isn't there a supernanny fandom tag this is a fucking TRAVESTY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fr1day/pseuds/fr1day
Summary: Jack Kline is a problem child. The chief problems being: he hates life, he only wants to eat cereal, he always gets his way, and- oh yeah- he's the child of Lucifer. So what the hell are the Winchesters expected to do?Call in Jo Frost- AKA Supernanny- Child-rearer, TV show host and demon hunter extraordinaire! (Well, two out of three will hopefully be enough).





	1. Chapter 1

Another day, Jo Frost thinks, another family.

This time, it's the Winchesters. Sitting up straight in the backseat of her custom text, Jo straightens her skirt and takes out her chunky laptop, opening it and donning her glasses so as to see the screen better. As it boots up, the incoming transmission shows up as a blinking exclamation point onscreen: she clicks, and is greeted with the face of a tall, scruffy man. "Hi, my name is Sam Winchester, I'm signing up with my brother Dean Winchester and Castiel Winchester and we have one child."

Clips flash on the screen, and Jo's brow furrows in confusion. She was told this child would be a little... different... from what she has dealt with before, but what she didn't expect was that he would look so old. He appeared almost in his early twenties, despite the fact that she usually worked with much younger kids and their families, although this was offset by the strangely spacey look he had on his face in several of the clips- except for one, wherein he screamed viciously and the camera, shakily recording, glitched out and went black. As the screen played videos of her soon-to-be next project, Sam Winchester continued to talk.

"His name is Jack Kline. He's five months old, but he's- uhh... around seventeen, I think, in terms of development. He still gets a little... edgy teen sometimes. We all have full-time jobs which we can't take him on, and we're struggling handling him, but we can't give him up, because..." Sam's eyes dart from side to side and he looks into the camera as if thinking, _Am I really gonna have to say this?_ Jo leans forward in curiosity. 

"He's the son of Lucifer." Sam mutters out fast. "He, uh.. I'm not really sure of everything he can do yet. We know he can shoot lasers out of his eyes, he can yell so loud it levitates you off the floor, and he has telekinetic abilities."

Jo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She's dealt with demons before, sure- Megan, for example, who she’d first mistaken for a belligerent child- but who she soon learned was possessed. After a quick exorcism lesson from a visiting hunter- who gave her the ‘talk’, as it were- she’d recited Latin at Megan until the demon left her body in a hasty cloud of pitch-black smoke. That had been hard enough to adjust to, but this? The son of Lucifer?

”Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me on this one,” she muttered. 

The submission video ended as it began- with Sam Winchester talking to the camera imploringly. “Please, Jo Frost, help us- we don’t know how to do this.”

”I certainly will,” Jo replies to thin air, signalling her driver to stop off at the nearest gas station at the side of the freeway. _Just as soon as I get some rock salt and as much holy water as I can carry in my purse.._

——

“God, I can’t believe you signed us up for friggin’ _Supernanny_.” Dean Winchester groans, shaking the table slightly as he slaps a cold beer on the wood, falling into a free seat simultaneously.

” _I_ can’t believe we actually got in,” Castiel replies. Sam sighs. Both Dean and Cas have been unhelpfully skeptical throughout the process, refusing to help with the video even through his assertions that Jo Frost had dealt with the supernatural before, and was well versed in both the art of child-rearing and hunting. Or at least he hopes.

”Come on, guys. At least we can try it? If she doesn’t work out, fine. We can do something else."

Castiel leans forward in his chair, looking for the first time as if he may actually be contemplating the idea. But then he shakes his head. "Sam, there's _no way_ this will work. Nobody's ever seen anything like Jack before. This- uh- Supernanny won't know what to do with him. Honestly, he'll probably end up burning a hole through her skull." 

Dean snorts, then covers his mouth. "Seriously?" Sam says, incredulous. "This was the only thing I could think of, and damn it, if it doesn't work we'll make it work. Come _on_ , Dean!" This he directs at his brother, who has on his patronising Sam's-being-preachy-and-I've-stopped-listening face. "I'm tying, okay? You barely talk to him, I'm pretty sure he hates you- for God's sake, you _shot_ at him the first time you saw him. The only one of us he even gives a crap about is Cas, and- Cas, buddy, no offence, but you're not exactly trying with him." 

"What?"

"Well, it's true! You let him sit in his room for hours on end, you give him whatever the hell he wants- it's just not _healthy_! We need something that's gonna really get through him, let him know we actually care, prepare him for-life- and face it, we're a mess. We need help-"

” _Sorry_ , because it must be so _hard_ for you. Not like you're living with three people who obviously don't care about you, both your parents are dead, and, oh, your father’s also Satan,” a harsh voice cuts through.

”Ah, speak of the-uh- oh, never mind.” Dean fumbles. Jack stomps across the room, brow furrowed, and opens the cupboard, searching for cereal.

"Jack, we care about you, we didn't mean for you to-"

"It doesn't _matter_ ," Jack answers through gritted teeth. "Castiel, where's the milk?"

"In the fridge," Castiel replies instinctively, met with twin _Really?_ looks from both Winchester brothers. "I mean- uh, we need to talk, Jack. We're having someone come over. We think she might be able to help us."

As if hearing nothing at all, Jack slams the door of the fridge, clattering a spoon into his bowl and barely missing splashing a wave of milk over the sides. He doesn't talk as he takes his bowl and pads heavily out of the kitchen for his room, not looking back. The only sign of his anger is the tell-tale glow of his eyes in the dark of the corridor.

Dean raises both hands in defeat. "Well, _that_ went well."


	2. Chapter 2

The Bunker- or, as Jo has decided to call it, the Winchester Household- looms in the distance as her taxi cruises through the largely empty streets of Lebanon, Kansas. Jo knows as much as any person not to draw attention to herself in a small town- she dropped the SPRNANNY plate at the gas station, as well as filling the trunk with a bag of rock salt and two gallons of holy water she blessed- somewhat awkwardly- with her driver's silver necklace. As they roll through, she begins to get a feeling of foreboding- however, she quickly shrugs it off, blaming the lack of people on the less-than-idyllic weather. As mud squelches under the tyres, the driver grimaces.

A squat, concrete building becomes more visible as the thin mist dissipates, the taxi soon making way onto a rough gravel road. Jo peers through the dew-soaked window, eyes squinted. "Is that really their house?" She asks quietly, used to narrating to the camera but quickly realising that nobody besides her and her driver are present, and that he is beginning to look at her rather strangely.

Stepping out of the car, Jo ignores the muck clinging to her beige kitten heels, making her way to the outside steps, demon-repellent filled purse slung close at her side. The rail beside the steps she leaves untouched, rust gnawing at the metal making it look as if it hadn't been cleaned for several decades; the door, a heavy steel behemoth set into a brick archway, which holds no bell or knocker, looks to be in much the same state. After a moment of deliberation, Jo simply raises a hand and knocks.

The man who answers the door is the same one in the video- Sam Winchester. Jo immediately notices that he looks worried, although he greets her politely enough, with a firm handshake and another introduction, as well as thanking her for coming at all. Once she steps inside at his motion, however, she’s greeted with a much frostier attitude.

Two other men stand uncomfortably down a set of metal stairs leading from the door to the lobby area, one at least looking like he’s trying to stir at her presence but the other almost ignoring her completely. Sam scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “This is Dean, my brother, and this is Cas- I mean, uh, Castiel. He’s the closest with Jack.” 

Castiel has the decency to greet her with a raise of his hand, Dean remaining silent. She assumes he’s a skeptic; well, that’s going to be unhelpful if she doesn’t do something about it. “Dean Winchester, I think?” She asks him, extending a hand, and grasping his with a firm handshake when he holds it out a second later. “I’m Joanne Frost, as I’m sure you’re brother’s told you. Now, are any of you going to tell me where the reason I’m here is?”

Sam clears his throat, clearly slightly surprised by her chipper attitude. “He’s, uh.. in his room. But before you meet him, we might have to talk about a few things first.”

 “Do you drink?” Dean asks.

Jo frowns. “Not on the job.”

He slides her a bottle across the table. She doesn’t open it.

Castiel is the first to start talking, at a motion from Sam. “I assume Sam’s told you the basics- Jack’s the son of Lucifer. However, I understand you’ve had contact with demons before?”

Shaking her purse, Jo nods before depositing a few cartons of rock salt and one of her holy water bottles onto the table. She would miss the barely perceptible raise of Dean’s eyebrows if her vision weren’t so sharp from years of her work. “Megan, from the Cooke family. I worked with her a few years ago for my show. At the time, she seemed like just another child with some behavioural problems. Even watching the tapes, you wouldn’t see anything strange. But I learned differently.

”It was the third day I was staying  in the neighbourhood when Megan broke into my hotel and attacked me. Before, at the house, she’d berated me for my teaching methods, but now she screamed at me in a different language. Her eyes, they were black, and it was dark, I was barely awake, and I’m sure I would have died if Sacha- one of my cameramen- hadn’t burst in and flung a bottle of holy water over her.

”Of course, I had no idea what the hell was going on. After he recited the exorcism, and the demon came out of Megan in a cloud of black smoke, he explained to me what had happened- Megan has been possessed by a demon of chaos, and he was a hunter tracking for the signs. He’d gotten himself hired with my producers a few days before.

”After that, for the cameras it was business as usual. Soon the Cooke family was another job well done, and I could move onto the next episode. But not before Sacha taught me everything he knew.”

Dean gives a low whistle. “A child-rearing demon-hunter? Well, you sure are one of a kind, lady.”

Frowning, Castiel speaks up again. “Joanne- Jack isn’t like other demons. The world has never seen anything like him before. He can stab himself and feel no pain, he can teleport easily, he can perform telekinesis sometimes even involuntarily if he’s emotional enough. I’m not even sure salt would have any discernible effect on him, though I do think that holy water tends to give him indigestion.”

”Wait, Jack can _drink_ holy water?” Sam asks, incredulous but thankfully unnoticing of Jo’s deflation.

”Uh... yes.”

”Alright,” Jo interrupts, pulling out a whiteboard from her purse and ignoring how the Winchesters balk. “Let’s start with the basics. We all need to work together on this. You all care about Jack, and you all want to help him, and to help him you need to work with me. So what are the problems you want to fix?”

”He only eats cereal,” Sam bursts out immediately, met with raised eyebrows from Dean and a poorly-concealed _here-we-go-again_ expression from Castiel. “Well, it’s not good for him, Nephilim or not! You know it’s gonna catch up to him in the end. It’s unhealthy.”

Jo scribbles this down on the whiteboard- _Unhealthy eating habits- cereal_ \- and is about to ask for another suggestion when Castiel states, “He needs to acclimate more to our presences. He needs to leave his room more. He needs to go outside. He needs to do things that human children do. It’s clear he feels seperated from the human side of himself-“

”Because it’s barely there,” Dean mutters, and Jo looks up from her scribbling in time to catch Sam elbow Dean to shut him up. “No. Speak,” she orders, pointing to him with the end of her pen.

Dean shrugs. “He’s the son of Lucifer, I mean... is he even gonna have that much of a life? I- look, I know you two don’t think it, but- he’s gonna go darkside at some point, and then where’ll we be?”

”Oh, come on, Dean, if he goes darkside it’ll be your fault. You shot a freaking _gun_ at him the first time you saw him.” Sam retorts.

”Stop,” says Jo, mind racing. She’s beginning to formulate a mental map- a schema- of how this family works- if you could call it a family. “Dean, try to put yourself in Jack’s shoes. He’s young. He’s living with three men he barely knows, one of whom openly dislikes him. Think of how you were like at seventeen. How would that have an effect on you, at that age? The point I’m trying to make is that he’s impressionable. What you do now will affect him for the rest of his life.”

Dean licks his lip, shrugs, and takes a swig of beer. Jo looks down at her whiteboard. “He’s going to feel alienated, from human society and from the people who are supposed to care about him,” she continues, adding it to the list, “And if you don’t change the way you act around him- all three of you- he’s going to feel that way for the rest of his life.

“So,” she says, breaking the sudden silence, “Let’s meet Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked it up and I think she wears beige kitten heels? correct me if I'm wrong lol im not a girl or a shoe expert. She might be wearing cone heels? Any shoe experts in the audience??
> 
> ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON THIS I STILL LOVE THIS AND IM GONNA TRY MY BEST TO REALISE MY DREAM FOR THIS FIC


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING LATE IM GONNA KMS
> 
> Basically school and exams happened and anxiety did stuff and I’m sorry y’all 
> 
> But to get the full effect of my experience while writing this chapter, [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3iyMbP6Ohg) the video I was watching in the background

Jack Kline was born barely four months ago, and he’s already pretty sure he hates this world and everyone in it.

It’s easier to latch onto hate, as an emotion- much better than trying to understand this world, in which people who try to help him and people who try to hurt him alike are killed, and nobody seems to know what to do with him- he’s buffeted this way and that in the apathetic winds that are humanity- he doesn’t understand this world, and nobody seems preoccupied with teaching him, and underneath all of it he doesn’t even know why he cared in the first place.

He supposes it was easier back then, before everything got complicated and hard and better to not mess with.

Jack is taking a third meander around his meagre space, pacing like a tiger in his cage at a zoo he once saw a picture of in the news behind Sam’s shoulder on a laptop, and unwrapping a second cereal bar- maple- when he hears a knock at the door. Which is probably the last thing, he realises, he wants to hear right now.

”What.” His tone is flat, betraying none of his irritation.

There’s a moment of what he thinks might be the three nudging each night other to see who talks- which irritates him even more, if that’s possible- before Castiel speaks. 

“Jack, there’s- uhh- someone here to see you.”

He frowns. Who? He runs through a quick list of the people he knows in his mind. Not Sam or Dean, they live here already. Not another angel? No, that’s right, they all want him dead. Human? They hate him. The first one he met, he good as killed. Then someone else?

His curiosity betraying his reluctance, Jack cracks the door open a slice, Castiel’s hopeful face only serving to exacerbate his bad mood. Itlooks like Sam and Dean have left; they obviously don’t want to spend any more time than is necessary in the presence of the devil’s spawn. Curiosity wins over resentment, and instead of closing the door Jack finds his eyes wandering past Castiel, to where a woman is standing, and before he knows it the door is open and they’re both standing too close for him to close it again.

”Jack? I’m Jo Frost.” 

The human in the suit and squared glasses sticks her hand out. Jack doesn’t take it. Out ignoring the corner of his eye, he notices Castiel swallow, but his eyes are focused on the woman. She has a businesslike air about her, but not a murderous one that he has now come to associate with the angels that ambushed him at the police station. The glasses- he’s never really seen a pair up close before- are clear panes that gleam in the light from the corridor bulbs, and her suit is crisp and almost crackles when she moves. In conclusion, she confuses him. Why is she here?

Castiel’s speaking again, and Jo Frost has taken back her hand. “Jack, do you remember when I told you that someone would be coming in to help us?”

”Yeah,” he replies suspiciously. 

“This is her. Jo Frost.” 

So this is the helper. She speaks, her voice a strange dialect that nearly makes him jump.

”Jack, I was hoping we could talk. I’ve met your dads, and-“

”My father is Castiel. Sam and Dean are not my fathers.” Not for the first time, Jack internally winces, not for the message he delivers, but for the clumsy and awkward speech.

”Alright, alright. You’re not comfortable with that. Well, I’ve talked to the rest, including Castiel, and I was hoping I could have a conversation with you, ask you a few things, if that’s alright, yeah?”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to.”

”Jack, are you happy with how your relationships are with Sam and Dean right now?” 

The cereal bar is beginning to melt in Jack's hand. He notices Castiel's eyes flick down towards it nervously, and slowly moves his hand behind his back. 

“It’s none of your business.”

”Is it?” 

“I’m fine.”

”Are you fine, Jack?”

Castiel is looking at him again, with something like pity in his eyes, something like he’s thinking _what_ _a_ _lost_ _cause_ and Jack closes his eyes and the cereal bar disintegrates.

”We can talk. Without my father.”

Jo nods, and Castiel leaves. 

——

Jo Frost smooths over the blue fabric of her skirt, taking a seat on the unmade memory foam bed. Jack Kline, the Winchesters’ only child, sits on a lone chair opposite her, staring into space. She gets the impression he only invited her in to get away from the searching gaze of his father, so she occupies herself with looking around the room until he feels like he wants to talk.

Or she would, if there was anything much to look at; Jack’s room is one of the most generic dormitories she’s ever encountered. A bed, a bedside table and lamp, a chair, and a light in the ceiling, and that’s about it- no individuality, barely anything besides the unmade bed and the industrial box of cereal bars sticking out from under it to tell her that there’s someone living here.

Jack, noticing her stare, nudged the box under the bed with his foot. She sees his waste paper basket strewn with the wrappers, and wonders if he eats anything else.

”I eat other things, you know. Not just cereal,” he says flatly. She doesn’t want to assume he’s a mind reader, but- is he a mind reader?

”Do you just like them, then?”

He nods. “Yeah, I guess. They, uh, they last for a long time.”

”Alright.” She waits, but he doesn’t elaborate, so Jo fills the silence once again in the best way she knows how: conversation. 

“So, Jack, I had a talk with your.. guardians, and they agree that they’re having trouble reaching you. Do you have any ideas why?”

He shrugs. Not helpful.

“Do you ever do anything together?”

”No. Usually I stay in my room. I think Sam feels bad about it, because he gave me that thing.” He points to a grey box on a shelf Jo hadn’t noticed, and she realises it’s a clunky old laptop. At least that’s something to connect him to the outside world, right?

As if he read her mind, Jack elaborates. “I don’t know how to work it. He didn’t show me.”

”Seriously?”

”I know other things. It’s not that important.”

”I think it is, Jack. Do you think Sam overestimates you?”

”I think he’s scared of me.”

Jack turns to look at the wall rather than looking in Jo’s eyes, closing himself off from her.

”They all are. Even Castiel.”

Jo wants him to talk. She shoots blindly- ”Why?”

Jack doesn’t say anything for a long second. “They just are. Why do I have to talk to you?”

Great. There was a moment there- just a small second- in which she felt Jack was opening up to her, and now she’s back to square one. Jo takes his question gamely anyway.

”I feel talking to me- all four of you- will help improve your family dynamic. Right now, obviously, Sam and Castiel walk on eggshells around you, and Dean doesn’t even bother trying to hide his... unjustified anger. All in all, I’d say you need some help.”

He nods slowly, fiddling with the seam on his trousers. “Alright.”

Jo goes on. “I think it could be good for you to get out of the room more, spend more time with them. You haven’t spent much time with each other, have you?”

”No.” Jack replies curtly and cautiously.

Jo visualises the notes she made earlier. “I had an idea that you could all sit down to a meal together. How does that sound?”

Jack presses his lips together, looking like he can barely contain his discomfort. He shifts to the left on the chair, then to the right, as if reflecting turning the idea over in his mind, brows furrowed. Jo waits with bated breath, and when the answer comes, it’s sudden and unexpected.

”Fine.” Jack mutters, the confirmation shooting out of his mouth so fast Jo would have almost missed it if not for her excellent hearing. “But- yes. Fine.”

“But what?” 

Jack cringes. “...I’ve never actually eaten anything other than cereal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if your comin in here to rant about Jack bein our of character get out of here compadre we spit on canon in this house
> 
> Also Jack is shaped by his negative experiences he’s somewhat hardened and I personally think the show isn’t unrealistic in showing how life would affect a blank slate
> 
> Alright I just had to make my Supernanny crossover work because I NEEEDED it


End file.
